Nude Awakenings
If you follow my writing/life (AS YOU ALL SHOULD!) you’ll know that I’ve certainly been challenging myself. Putting myself out there, for better or worse, and doing my best to experience what I can. And I think it’s starting to catch…
A couple months ago my oldest friend Alyssa reached out wanting to hang out soon (okay, word) at a nudist resort (wait… what?!)
I had honestly never entertained the idea before. At least not seriously. These places always just seemed like a thing that bored retirees go to once their kids are out of the house. Complete with all the saggage that comes with bearing the weight of the world for so long… or, ya know, gravity.
And for some peanutbutter-lovin’ reason, I can’t stop saying no to “new” (or, in this case, NUDE 😅). I make this public appeal to all of you now: please, please, PLEASE no one ask me to go skydiving.
I didn’t really stress about the impending experience because it felt like such an abstract idea, being at least month out. I also had it in the back of my mind that I was most probably going to flake (sorry, Lys). But my friend was persistent and eventually had us lock in a date. It also didn’t help that she pitched this as great material for my next article.
As September 23 neared, my plan-y brain forced me to think about what I was getting myself into. Sure, about how weird it might be being nekked around a group of strangers, but also about the being naked with this particular friend part.
Some background on my relationship with Alyssa.
We’ve literally known each other our whole lives. Well… minus 3 months for her, since she is slightly older, and a day for me, since I think her mom visited my mom in the hospital the day after I was born. The universe just put us in each other’s lives. And ya know what? We kinda hit it off…
We’ve seen each other through deaths, weddings (including mine), divorces (…including mine), and a shit ton of other Facebook Life Events.
One thing you should realize about being a girl who happens to also have a body is that while growing up, you begin to notice other girls’ bodies. And with that begins the never-ending comparison of yours to theirs. A significant part of this is to make sure what’s happening to you is normal. That you’re normal. That you belong.
So since she was my closest female friend, I compared myself to her constantly. I also started to notice that she seemed to receive more attention than I did, especially from 😍boys😍. At the beach, at the pool, at church, wherever. And the information I had in front of me suggested that this hadta be because of weight. Ya see, she was always skinnier. And I was usually… plumper:
There were other times when attention would be called to our differing bodies. In line at Dunkin’ Donuts once, she asked me about these red marks streaking my chest. I didn’t even know what they were and was too self-conscious to admit it. I quickly came up with a story about how my moody cat Oreo had attacked me. It wasn’t until a bit later did I figure out that they were just newly formed stretch marks from my sudden and rapid boobification!
The last time, previous to this nudist adventure, that I remembered us being at all naked around each other was one sleepover she had senior year of high school. We had just finished filming one of our traditional “Provocative Dance” videos in her basement with a group of friends (Definitely not provocative at all... at least not how you’re thinking. We really just put on goofy outfits and wigs and then recorded ourselves dancing spastically to Missy Elliott).
ANYWAYS — somehow the group ended up topless. (Okay, again. Get that sexy, teen, sleepover image out of your head, you perv! I forget how it all started, but it was solely curiosity-driven.)
I remember this being the first time I was ever insecure about my boobs (up until that point I had only thought that bigger=better. I also knew that both my mom and sister had big boobs, so I believed that one day mine would also be bigger, which meant that I would eventually be more attractive. Still waiting…) Giggling, a friend declared that my boobs looked like (o)possums, to which people started to laugh. Probably because who the fuck thinks of comparing anything to opossums. Butt… I digress.
Getting out of high school, and maybe honestly away from this friend for a while, helped my body image quite a bit. As well as doing all the work that’s been involved in my recovery. Having all this time as a single lady the past several months has helped solidify feeling close to the most comfortable in my skin I’ve been. But I was still nervous that putting myself in a vulnerable, body-comparison space with Alyssa would pull me right back into that insecure mindset.
She, of course, had her own concerns.
You know how sometimes people coordinate on what they’re wearing before going to an event? Maybe to make sure that what they’ll be wearing will be appropriate for the occasion. Maybe to make sure that they don’t wear the same outfit. Well… Alyssa definitely wanted to make sure to coordinate before we went as well:
So with that settled, on September 23, 2017, she and I made our way a couple hours outside the city to a nudist campground!
Pulling into the gravelly parking lot, there was no one in sight. However, once we made our way to the (full) front(al) office, the nudity began to emerge. Still fully clothed, we walked into the quaint, rustic cabin-like building where we were met by a group of naked people just sitting around a table. One of these included the 80ish year old owner, who promptly made her way behind the desk, fumbling around as she got us signed in. Apparently she’s legally blind, and her assistant was MIA.
Then came our brief tour of the grounds by a man in his 40s who sometimes wore a towel. As we made our way around, it soon became obvious that, minus a couple kids, we were the youngest by ~20 years.
I’ve never felt so young and supple — Alyssa
While we were on the tour, people sorta just stared at us. Some smiled and said hello quietly, but for the most part, we were the “other.” Honestly, I’ve never felt more uncomfortable for being clothed before. As soon as we had the chance, we scurried to the bathroom — both for our bladder’s and our awkwardness’s sake.
By this point, I wasn’t so much nervous about strangers seeing my naked body anymore (unexpected). I was actually pretty anxious to disrobe in order to fit in. But there was this unsettledness happening. Stemming from an issue of… safety, was it? A fear of being physically vulnerable with these people. These strangers. These older strangers. These older male strangers. I’ve been thinking about past abuse a fair amount recently— a hot topic of my therapy seshes these days. So, let’s just say… that lens was surely being applied.
Bladder evacuation complete, I just said “fuck it” and started taking off my dress. I knew I would never get comfortable until I just did it. And I couldn’t come back from a nudist campground without ever having been nude. I would never live it down. Lys agreed. We came out of our stalls and saw each other’s entire bodies for the first time since we were little.
This was the easiest part, of course. We started giggling and taking some us-ies (selfies, but with others). She had to crouch down so that we could get both of our sets of boobs in the shot. Not only is she taller, but her smaller breasts are perkier than mine (one of the two main comparisons I would continually make throughout the day).
We went over to her car to ditch our clothes, grab a beer, and sneak into the woods by ourselves for a bit. Before we got to our cover, however, two white men in their 50s came up to introduce themselves. At first this made me feel pretty fuckin’ uneasy, but I was soon comforted by the fact that neither of these men looked down while talking to us. They kept eye contact the whole time. This wasn’t about sex for them. In fact… spoiler alert… 0 boners all day.
Finally Lys and I got to the woods and came across the field where people could go to pitch their tent — 😜😜😜. We found ourselves all alone in this large, lush opening. So of course we did what any self-respecting millennials would do: we had a photoshoot!
We eventually got interrupted by this sweet, larger woman and her small dog on their go-cart, prompting us to go back for lunch, since we were now feeling a bit more comfortable in our nude suits. The blind owner/office-worker/now-turned chef prepared us a couple grilled cheeses and sat with us while we ate. She began to tell us about how she and her recently-deceased husband had bought the campground 25 years ago in order to have a more family-friendly nudist option. And in the process, created a whole new family.
Being the daredevils that we are, we decided it was pool time only a couple minutes after finishing our meal. The water was actually quite chilly for a bunch of people with no protective layers. (Clothing was optional everywhere on the grounds. Only exceptions were for the pool and hot tubs) We swam around for a bit to warm up, meeting some more people along the way. As we started to make our way out, one friendly gentleman roped us into playing water volleyball, even though we kept saying we were wanting to check out the hot tub. We smiled saying that we’d be right back as we slipped away.
There were two separate tubs next to each other, one with a couple gentlemen already soaking. We went with the empty one. The first man introduced himself and promptly declared himself as the camp philosopher. I gave him the benefit of the doubt at first. It wasn’t until he mentioned the difference between nudists and naturists did I feel compelled to engage with him.
According to the best Yahoo Answer:
The difference is very subtle, and the definitions likely differ from one nudist/naturist to the next... I tend to think of nudists as seeing nudity as more of a social thing, something to be enjoyed with friends at home or at a nude beach/resort. Naturists see of nudity as a way of life, a healthy lifestyle that lives clothes-free and greatly appreciates the link between being nude, which is perfectly natural, and the rest of nature.
It was clear that he found naturists, which he included himself as, to be morally superior. He continued by saying that it would be ideal if we could incorporate nudity into everyday life, everywhere. That’s the way it’s meant to be. I questioned this by asking what he thought about having naked people around for people who might be triggered by this, whether from past abuse or other sensitive issue. Simply because I’m torn on that bit myself. I’m relatively ambivalent about the whole “trigger warning”-ing of life, in fact, so I was curious to hear his take on it.
I can’t remember him actually ever answering the question. Or any of my questions. Instead, what came out of his mouth was sexist, gender-rigid, twisted, messiah-complex bullshit, masked with an unflinching smile.
It was during this conversation where I noticed that he was talking primarily to Alyssa. Even if I had asked the question. FLASHBACK TO AWKWARD PRETEEN/TEENAGE YEARS. Maybe I was just more intimidating? Or less healthy looking? He seemed all about that “body is a temple” shit.
As the conversation went on, Alyssa and I continually challenged him, but it was obvious that we were getting nowhere. After about an exhausting hour or so, I announced “Well… I think we got a volleyball game we’re running late for…”
Apparently, nudists take their water volleyball very seriously. Or at least these did. Once all the rules were laid out, we started playing — 4 on 4. It was mid-game when I finally realized that I hadn’t been thinking about being naked for a while. It was no longer the most interesting thing. It no longer mattered.
When it was finally time to leave, we went to find and thank the owner. We started to say goodbye, but she stopped us before the words left our mouths. She explained that there were only two words that were absolutely not allowed in her camp: “hate” and “goodbye.” She hugged us both individually saying that she looked forward to seeing (err… having) us again.
When we were back at the car, putting our clothes on, I was honestly a little relieved. It had been fun and definitely a memorable experience, but I think I had had my fill. Maybe it was the amount of mental and emotional energy of being in this unfamiliar environment. Maybe it was just being around people all day. Whatever it was, I just knew that it felt good to have fabric draping my body again. Similar to how it feels when putting on warm, dry clothes after swimming… I mean… I guess it was literally that.
Everyone at the campground had been completely comfortable in their own skin. No one there had a perfect body and no one felt compelled to hide any bit of it. No one was seemingly being judged by what they looked like, and obviously not by what they were wearing. We were all equals.
At first, I was startled and a little embarrassed when I saw my body, but I did get used to it. I eventually got used to seeing my belly, for instance. I accepted that this is how I looked. This is my body. And it didn’t wholly define me. It didn’t change who I am. And it equalized my friend and me. Having us both be this vulnerable allowed us to have this experience together. To see each other in a new way… and not just literally.
I think I’m done with nudism for a bit, especially since it will hopefully start feeling like cooler, fall-er weather soon. I’m honestly in no rush to make it back to a nudist campground or resort. Maybe a nude beach. Or the Philly Naked Bike Ride. But I guess I need a bike first…